


Claire Returns AU

by hunting_in_wonderland2



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:06:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunting_in_wonderland2/pseuds/hunting_in_wonderland2
Summary: In a rare moment of respite from a demanding red-headed toddler, Claire stumbles upon evidence that Jamie did not in fact die at the battle of Culloden, and promptly packs up her things to take Bree to meet her real father.





	1. Planes, Trains, Automobiles and Horses

“Come on sweetie, it’s time to go now,” I urged Brianna, taking over the tying of her shoes.

“Where are we going mama?” The small fiery-haired toddler asked.

“We’re going on a trip to meet some family darling,” I told her.

“Why isn’t daddy coming?” she wondered aloud.

“Daddy has to work Bree, but you and I are going to go on an aeroplane, doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“I want daddy to come too!” Bree shouted, stomping her foot

“hush darling, we’ll see your daddy when we get there.” I told her, leaving out the fact that the father in question, her real father, was not in fact Frank, whom she had been so far raised to believe was her daddy.

Upon my return from the Scotland of 1746 nearly five years ago, I had promised, at Frank’s insistence, not to go looking for any information about what had happened to the people I had known and cared about after the battle of Culloden. At first I had been hesitant to agree, but once I came to the realization that I truly could not go back, I was all too willing to accompany Frank to his new post in Boston and avoid anything to do with Scotland’s past. I truly had not intended to break my promise. I had been nosing around in Frank’s study, absent mindedly picking up things and putting them back down as I waited for Brianna to wake up from her nap. I picked up a photograph of a grave stone, which lay on top of an envelope addressed to Frank from the Reverend Wakefield with whom he had stayed in contact with after our first visit to Scotland after the end of the Second World War. The photograph was one of a rather shabby looking old gravestone in a long abandoned Scottish kirk yard. It wasn’t the name on the grave stone that prompted my packing for a trip halfway around the world, so much as the rest of the inscription.

_James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser_

_Beloved Husband of Claire_

and a date several years after I was convinced the man I loved had died valiantly with his men on Culloden Moor. After quickly doing the math in my head I went into a frenzy of packing and preparing for a trip to Scotland and the standing stones of Craig na Dune. Nearly five years ago, I had left the year 1746,  and if the way the stones worked stayed the same, I would arrive back five years after that, in 1751, when Jamie was still alive.

I knew Frank would be crushed at my taking Brianna with me, he had lived up to his promise to love her as his own, but I couldn’t very well go back to Jamie without our daughter, neither could I in good conscience keep Brianna from meeting her true father. I had considered leaving Frank a note, but knew in my heart that nothing I could say, in person or on paper, would ever make my leaving okay. I also knew that he would not need one, to know where I had gone, and why, when he found the door to his study open and the photograph in the centre of his desk.

                “Are we going to go on a train mama?” Brianna’s small voice asked.

                “Yes we are darling, a taxi, and an aeroplane, and a train,” I informed her, feeling a swell in my heart at the excitement in her slanted blue eyes.

*   *   *   *   *

Boston to Scotland is a long and exhausting trip to make alone, and with an easily bored toddler, even more so, but at last after a cab, aeroplane, and train journey, I arrived in Inverness, sleep deprived and carrying a weary four year old on my hip. During the overnight plane ride, I had taken advantage of the other passengers sleeping to explain as best I could to a four year old, where we were actually going, and sternly tell her that she was not to mention anything about technology, or anything else modern that would make any sane highlander suspicious of us. I also explained to her as best I could without making her angry, that Frank was not her father, and that we were going to meet her real daddy. At first she was quietly defiant, but once I started telling her about Jamie, she seemed to like the idea of meeting someone with hair like hers. Once she fell asleep, I made a mental plan to use what money I had to procure suitable dresses for both of us, and to purchase as many eighteenth century coins as there were in the small but growing town of Inverness. I wanted to get everything done as soon as possible to avoid running into the Reverend Wakefield, or anyone else who might recognize me and start asking questions.

I had worried whether Brianna would make it through the stone circle, I had the ability to travel through it obviously, but I knew from experience the stones were nothing more than large slabs of rock to Jamie. In the end I felt confident she would. Sure enough, after a long day spent being outfitted and gathering what supplies I could, I entered the stone circle of Craig na Dune once again, with my daughter by my side.

As soon as we took a step towards the large cleft stone in the centre, Brianna’s small hand tugged on the skirt of my dress and her words chased away any doubt I still had about her and the circle of ancient standing stones.

                “Mama, what’s that funny sound?” She asked nervously. For lack of a better explanation, I remembered the old stories about the so called fairy hill and kneeling in front of her, said,              

                “Don’t worry sweetie, that’s the sound of magic, and it’s going to take us to your father. Do you see the big crack in that stone there?” I asked her. At the nod of her head, I continued.

                “We’re going to walk through it, and I need you to hold my hand as tight as you can, alright?”

                “Yes mama.” I smiled at her and took her hand, and the two of us stepped through the stone together.

                I woke up to the sun shining on my face and Brianna cradled on my chest, unconscious, but breathing deeply. I let out a sigh of relief and let go of a worry I didn’t realize I was carrying until that moment.

                “Bree honey, it’s time to wake up,” I whispered, gently nudging the figure sleeping on my chest. Her eyes fluttered open and she squirmed a bit before sitting up.              

                “Here, eat this, it will help you feel better,” I said, handing her half of a peanut butter sandwich, taking the other half myself.

                Once we had finished our sandwiches and a quick drink of water, I scooped Brianna up and struggled down the steep hill to what passed for a road in the eighteenth century. I had gathered enough money to purchase a horse as soon as we came across a sizeable town, but for now, we had to walk. I was fairly certain I remembered the way to Lallybroch, or at the very least I knew which general direction it lay in, so I situated Bree on my back and started down the dirt road.

                After a few hours of very stop and go walking, we finally reached a village large enough to have a small Inn, and, thank god, a few horses for sale. I purchased the friendliest one; unlike Jamie, I didn’t have a knack for dealing with horses. After that I had only enough money left for a bit of food, so we rode until nightfall, Bree tucked securely in front of me, my cloak wrapped around both of us. I built a fire a good ways away from the trail and we slept snuggled together for warmth. Even in the middle of summer, the Highlands can get chilly at night.

                The next morning we rode until at last I began to recognize our surroundings, and became confident in our direction. The going was still slow though, as toddlers have fairly low stamina and require frequent pee breaks. After what felt like weeks, but was really only a few days, we finally reached the top of the hill from which Lallybroch was visible.

                “Look Bree, that’s where your Auntie Jenny and Uncle Ian live, and hopefully your father is home.” I said, pointing at the, for the times, modern house. I had explained as well as I could to a toddler that Frank was just mummy’s friend, not her father, and that the man I had married and loved was, with any luck, in that large farm house.

                “Do I have any cousin’s mama?” Bree asked me.

                “Last time I was here you had three, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more now,” I told her, remembering wee Jamie who looked up to his Uncle, and the delivery of Maggie shortly before Jamie was taken by the English, and then meeting small Katherine upon returning to Lallybroch from France.             

                “Well, are you ready to meet them?” I asked. Bree nodded her head excitedly and the horse trotted down the hill towards Lallybroch.

                I grew increasingly nervous with every step towards the house I had once called home. What if Jamie wasn’t even there, what if he had remarried? He had sent me back to Frank, and until I had actually done it, I wasn’t even sure I could survive a trip through the stones a third time. He wouldn’t have waited for me because neither of us had planned ever to see each other again. And what about Jenny? She was fiercely protective of her brother, perhaps she would be angry with me for leaving. There aren’t many sights more frightening than a Fraser who thinks you’ve wronged someone they care about. Before I even finished going over all the possible outcomes of my impromptu return, I was startled out of my thoughts by the barking of dogs’ right in front of me. The horse was nervous and I stroked its neck in an effort to calm it down before dismounting and helping Bree down.

Once the dogs had decided I wasn’t a threat and settled down, I took Bree’s hand in one of mine and the horse’s reigns in the other, leading them both into the yard of Lallybroch. It was busy, as usual, with there never being a lack of work to do in midsummer. The first person to look up at our approach was Fergus, the young French lad Jamie had adopted off the streets of Paris.

                “Milady!” the boy shouted, as his eyes widened in surprise. He dropped what he was doing and ran towards us. He stopped just in front of me, being a bit more formal than necessary so I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his slight figure.

                “Oh Fergus, it’s so good to see you.” As I let him go, I looked at how much he had changed. A mere ten years old when Jamie had brought him home to our temporary estate in Paris, He was now sixteen, and much taller than I remembered, though still just the same in every other way. I was reminded of Brianna when she began tugging at my skirt for attention. I knelt down to be at her level and said

                “Bree, this is your… brother, Fergus.”

                “Milady! Do you really think of me in this way?” Fergus asked, shocked that I had called him Bree’s brother. I had done it for lack of ability to think of any other title that would suit him and which Bree would understand.

                “Of course I do Fergus! I love you like you were my own son, and so this is your younger sister, Brianna, named for Milords father,” I told him. Then the question I had dreaded asking came up.

                “Speaking of Jamie, where is he Fergus, was he…taken, after Culloden?”

                “No Milady! Milord is living near here, but cannot be seen during the day. He is due to visit tonight to shave and bring us meat.” Fergus reported matter-of-factly. My worry lessened slightly, but if Jamie could not come out during the day, it meant the English were still active in the area, and his presence was a danger.

                “Fergus, be a good lad and fetch Jenny for me would you? Tell her her sister in law has come home.”

                “OF course Milady!” Fergus said, dashing off into the house to find Jenny Murray.

I was just showing Bree how to let the dogs smell her when Jenny Murray came waddling out of the house with a curious look on her face.

                “Claire!” She cried, and started to walk towards me.

                “Jenny! It’s so good to see you” I said, as her arms wrapped tightly around me. When she pulled away, she stood there, inspecting me I thought. This was it. The moment I would know whether Jenny would welcome me back or turn me out. I didn’t think there was a high chance of her genuinely turning me away, but with Jenny, if she thought I hurt Jamie on purpose, she wasn’t likely to be overly warm with me. In the end my sister in law was fairly simple.

                “For the love of God Claire, what happened to ye?” She demanded with the blank face of a Fraser who didn’t want you to know what they were thinking.

                “Oh Jenny, I’m so sorry. I suppose Jamie would want me to tell you I went back to France at his request just before the battle at Culloden, but in truth, I can’t explain where I’ve been. I thought he was dead Jenny.” My eyes began to tear up at the memory of how painful it had been. “I thought he was dead.” I repeated.           

                “He made me promise to go away if anything happened to him, he told me he intended to die on that field with his men. I only found out differently a few days ago, and I left the second I knew.” I was now leaning on the horse to keep myself steady.

                “Mama, are you okay?” A tiny voice said from behind my skirts. I quickly composed myself as best I could and scooped the miniature Fraser into my arms.              

                “This is Brianna,” I said, introducing her to Jenny.

                “Bree, say hello to your Auntie Jenny.” I instructed. She murmured a quiet hello and hid her face in my dress.

                “Weel, ye’d best come inside and wash up. You’re filthy with travel, and the we’an best meet her cousins.” Jenny said with her usual authority.


	2. Lallybroch

Shy at first through the introductions to wee Jamie, who was not as wee as I remembered, Maggie, and Kitty, all of whom I knew, and Michael and Janet, who had not yet been born the last time I was at Lallybroch, Brianna was now playing excitedly with her cousins. I on the other hand, after washing up and getting reacquainted with Jenny and Ian, was now anxious to ask about Jamie. Fergus had said Jamie was living nearby, possibly with one of his tenants, or one of the cottages that had been emptied by English patrols? But then why would Jamie need to come to the house and shave? Fergus also said he brought meat when he came; Jamie had been an outlaw for a good chunk of time before I had known him, perhaps he was sleeping rough in the heather and spending his days hunting, as he had done before.  I had just mustered up the courage to finally ask Jenny where Jamie was, when she seemed to read my mind.

                “It’s getting dark, Jamie should be down soon to bring whatever he’s managed to hunt today to the kitchens. You and the bairn best stay by the fire while I talk to him first” she said. I nodded in agreement. While I was sure Jamie would be pleased to see me, and Brianna even more so, I didn’t want him to die of a heart attack before he could meet his daughter.

                All the other children had been put to bed by the time Jenny arose to wait in the kitchen, and Ian kept Bree and I company by the fire.

                “I don’t mean to pry Claire, but where on God’s green Earth did ye disappear to?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Jamie came back home after Culloden and wouldna say a word about ye but that ye were gone and we were none of us to speak of ye in his presence ever again.”

                “Well, when I thought Jamie was dead, I went to my relatives in France,” I told him, keeping with the lie I had told upon my first arrival in the eighteenth century, that I was travelling to live with relatives in France before being attacked by bandits and taken in by the Mackenzie’s of Leoch. Ian made a Scottish noise of understanding and then settled back into his chair. I knew he didn’t believe me, but he seemed satisfied for the time being. After a while, there was a commotion in the kitchen and a very large, very unkempt Highlander burst into the room, eyes wild and searching before settling disbelieving on me and the small figure asleep in my lap.

                “Claire,” Jamie whispered.

                I shifted Bree off my lap and stood up to face him. His hair was long and wild, his beard was thicker than I had ever seen it, there was dirt all over him, and his clothes, although not quite rags, were worn and frayed. He stepped forward hesitantly, slowly stretching a hand out to touch me. His fingers brushed my cheek and he nearly fell to his knees.

                “My god, you’re real. It’s you, you’re truly here _mo chridhe_.” I stepped forward and took him in my arms.

                “Ye came back Sassenach,” he muttered into my hair, not letting go of me. “Ye came back to me _mo nighean donn._ ”

                I had strength enough only to whisper his name, so quietly I wasn’t even sure he could hear it, and suddenly I was sobbing.

                “Jamie, I thought – I thought you were dead. I went, I left because I had to…” I was at a loss for what to say to him, but was suddenly brought back to my senses when a small voice behind me asked,

                “Mama, why are you crying?”

                “I’m crying because I’m happy darling, don’t worry.” I told her.

                “Come here, I want you to meet someone,” I said, taking her hand and gently tugging her towards me.

                Jamie knew who she was before I could say anything, no one could doubt that she was his child, all slanted blue Fraser eyes, and flaming Mackenzie hair.

                “What’s her name?” He asked me, staring wide eyed at the tiny replica of himself that stood before him.

                “Go on sweetie,” I urged, giving Bree an encouraging nudge towards her father.

                “My name’s Brianna,” she muttered shyly towards the floor.

                “Bree darling, do you remember what I told you on the –“ I stopped myself. I had almost said the word aeroplane, right in front of Jenny and Ian.

                “On the way here?” I corrected. She nodded and looked up at me.

                “Is this my daddy?” She asked.

                “Yes, yes it is,” I answered, smiling.

                Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs. Crook come in and whisper something to Jenny.

                “Your room is ready, if ye’d like, the bairn can sleep with the other weans.” She announced.

                “I think I would like that,” I said, smiling at her in thanks.

                After coaxing Bree into bed, assuring her that no monsters were going to jump out of the shadows and get her, I followed Jamie up the stairs to the bedroom we had occupied during our previous stays at Lallybroch. As soon as the door shut behind us, Jamie took me in his arms and we simply stood there in silence, relishing in the touch of each other after so long. After what felt at the same time like too long and too short a time, Jamie pulled away, but kept his hands on me.

                “Truth be told Sassenach, I wasna at all sure ye’d even go back.”

                “Truth be told, neither was I, but I didn’t have a choice, it was the stones or the English so I ran to the stones and Jamie, I hated every minute away from you.”

                “Even with such things as, running water and hot baths?” he asked, chuckling.

“Those _were_ nice,” I admitted “but think I would rather be with you.”

“Well I’m glad to hear it Sassenach”

“Speaking of baths, you look like you haven’t been properly clean in ages. What on earth have you been up to Jamie?” I asked, not sure if I truly wanted an answer.

“Ah well, that I think, is a story for the morning. Ye look worse than I feel Sassenach, will ye sleep wi’ me Claire?” he asked hesitatingly, as if not sure I would say yes. It hadn’t occurred to me not to, and Jamie’s hesitation reminded me of the gap that lay between us. What could he have gone through between Culloden and my return? Was he still the man I had left? I was all too familiar with the ghost’s war left behind, and knew well that Jamie had his share even before the Rising. I pushed the questions aside for the moment, he was right, I was bloody exhausted. I nodded and began to undress, forgetting that in my haste to get to the stones, I had purchased the only suitable gown available in Inverness which happened to have a zipper on it. I felt Jamie’s hand on my back, hesitant, asking if I wanted help with my dress as I used to.

“On the side here, there’s a zipper, you take hold of the metal piece at the top and pull it down,” I explained. He did as I instructed and I stepped out of the dress as it fell to the floor with ease.

“Well, that certainly makes things easier. I wonder, how long until that will be invented Sassenach? It does seem quite useful.” He asked curiously.

“It won’t be used widely until my time I’m afraid, just less than two hundred years from now. It’s such a shame, it really would make dressing easier.” I told him. The air was cold and I quickly sought refuge under the blankets of the bed. Jamie followed and pulled me towards him, running his hands over my shoulders, my arms, my hips, my stomach, relearning every curve of my body. I reached out and touched his face, the beard rough under my fingers. I started with his hair, the hair I had seen on our daughter every day for years, which broke my heart anew each morning. I closed my eyes and followed his lead, reacquainting myself with his body. I don’t remember stopping, but at some point during this reunion I fell asleep.


End file.
